


Under the Morning Light

by YohKoBennington



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Hand Jobs, M/M, Morning Sex, Rating: NC17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-15
Updated: 2012-10-15
Packaged: 2017-11-16 09:50:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/538185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YohKoBennington/pseuds/YohKoBennington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's moments like this that makes everything else worth it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under the Morning Light

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [badbastion](http://badbastion.livejournal.com/) art that can be found [here](http://badbastion.livejournal.com/10683.html)

It's early morning; Sam doesn't need to turn around at the clock to know that. Just looking at the soft sunlight resting on Dean's face it is enough. He has always loved how the light plays on Dean's skin, it makes the freckles stand out, disbursing all over his nose and cheekbones to his ears and the side of his neck. If glances to the arm resting over his own chest, right over where his heart beats contently, he can see the freckles playing hide and seek under the golden hair.

Dean always looks younger when he sleeps; when the weight of what they do and what they have gone through doesn't reach him and he can find solace in the storm for at least a few hours. Even now, when there is a little wrinkle between his eyebrows that Sam itches to smooth out, he still looks peaceful.

Sam catches a sigh of the flowered wall, and a smile tugs his lips remembering last night. After a rough hunt and as their luck does it, every other place where they could spend the night was full except this one. They could have spent the night in the Impala, but they were too tired, dirty and wary for uncomfortable leather seats. Convincing Dean, well, that had proved to be a whole marathon.

“It looks like a teenager chick puked all over it,” Dean had whined.

“It's not that bad.”

“Seriously, dude. I feel it's sucking out my manliness every second I spend here.”

Sam had gave him a ' _really, because fucking your brother is manly?_ ' stare to which Dean had murmured an annoyed “Shut it.”

The argument didn't last long anyways, because Sam knows his wicked ways, and the promise of free breakfast and sex was enough to shut Dean up, and to grumpily agree they should stay. He will admit to himself thought, that the pink and purple flowering wallpaper, flowered white comforter complete with the matching white sheets, and even the pink bathroom tiles, toilet and sink are more than a little bizarre. Still, they have stayed in weirder motel rooms than this.

Dean snorts lightly in his sleep, nose crunching in this cute way-whoa, don't let Dean hear him say that- as if he knows what Sam is thinking about. Sam silently chuckles, mindful to not wake him up. But then he gets distracted with Dean's plum parted lips, and he shivers, goosebumps making his skin tingle as his body becomes painfully aware of the morning wood he has being ignoring so far. Thoughts of letting Dean sleep longer fly out of his mind like a flock of birds.

He rolls to his side to face Dean, subsequently getting closer, and smiles when Dean even in his sleep searches for Sam's body. Sam kisses him softly over the dust of freckles, then keeps trailing down to his jaw, neck, up to his earlobe that he playfully bites causing Dean to moan and roll his hips. The light friction over his sensitive dick makes Sam gasp, and he automatically moves his right leg over Dean's hip, dragging him flush against his exposed heated skin. Dean is fully awake now, his left hand trailing Sam's leg up to his plaid boxers, where he squeezes the base of Sam's ass making him moan and roll his hips again.

“Morning, sunshine.” Dean hums teasingly, voice raspy, and eyes half lidded which Sam knows has nothing to do with just waking up.

“Morning,” Sam whispers, air ghosting over Dean's lips before he takes them into a kiss. Hand moves to the neck, where he can feel Dean's pulse going faster as they deepen the kiss and their bodies rut in unison. Loving the sensation of Dean growing hard against his balls. It trills him to know he can do this to Dean. Make him come apart and lose control just with a touch. To be the one that Dean allows himself to feel something deeper and more meaningful than a quick nightstand.

Sam drinks it all in: Dean's intoxicating smell, that can make him go from zero to ten in seconds. The feel of his muscles rippling under his shirt and boxers as he kisses Sam like his life depends on it. As if it would be their last kiss. Their skin sliding with their sweat, as the electricity becomes a magnet until they can't seem to come apart. The world drowning out, until the only sound they can hear is their elaborate breathing and moaning.

There are no monsters, no doomed destiny, no duty, and not flowered room in here. No space for nothing else but them, and only them.

Dean tangles his fingers with Sam's hair, deepening the kiss until Sam thinks he's going to come just from what he's doing with his tongue. He bites Sam's lower lip when they break for breath, before nipping down the jaw, and biting the skin where his neck and collarbone meet and that will turn into little bruises later. Leaving his mark on Sam. _Mine, always and forever._

Sam gets his hand under Dean's t-shirt, needing to feel more skin against his, trailing up the planes of Dean's abs until he reaches the perky nob and teases it with his thumb. Dean's muffled moan in his neck sends a new wave of arousal all over Sam's body. A curse leaves his mouth when Dean, the sneaky bastard, grabs his cock through the small entrance of his boxers. Sam can't help but thrust into the warm calloused hand, head falling back when Dean sweeps his thumb over the head, gives a little pressure over there because he knows it drives Sam crazy, and gathers the pre-come to spread it all the way down to the base, teasing the underside with a soft scrape of his nail before he starts moving his hand, twisting now and then until Sam is shaking next to him. He can feel Dean's cocky smile against his now exposed neck, as Sam has to restrain himself from coming too fast. It hasn't been that long since they had sex, but Dean always has that effect on him. Its like Sam's body is fire and Dean is the wood that lights it up. Dean knows it, and he enjoys that fact.

But he isn't the only one that knows what buttons to push. Their mouths find each other again, and Sam can feel his navel trembling, the orgasm building with every kiss. He wants Dean to be right there with him, when the world tilts in a sudden sensorial explosion. Growling into his mouth, Sam shoves his hand inside Dean's boxers and wraps it over his cock, stroking the hot skin hard and rough like he already knows it'll push Dean to the edge. Now, it's his turn to smile against Dean's kissed swollen lips, when his hand movement over Sam's cock falters for a minute and his hold on the tangled locks tightens.

Sam swallows Dean's “Fuck, Sam”, like a thirsty man in the dessert. The jack each other off, moaning and trembling with every sensation. At some point their hands join, trapping both their cocks in between and rubbing hard flesh over hard flesh. Their thrust become frantic them, so close to release, yet not ready to let go.

Sam feels his balls drawn up, and it's not enough warning before he's shouting Dean's name and coming all over his stomach and Dean's. Dean drives him through the orgasm, panting and shivering as he comes closer to his own release. When it comes, Sam is already there to help him. Marveling at how the pleasure makes Dean's face go slack, giving himself all to Sam.

They stay in the mess of tangled limbs as their breathing calms down. The vestiges of their orgasm tingling in their sweaty skin, and the cooling come sliding over their stomachs every time they take a breath in sync.

“We should go clean up,” Sam says, voice soft as if to not break the spell. Head resting between Dean's shoulder and neck because at some point his pillow fell over his duffel next the bed, and he's too lazy to fetch it. Dean is a better pillow anyways.

Dean grunts, but doesn't open his eyes. Instead, he passes his arm over Sam's frame to his back and tightens his hold, keeping him in place.

Message received, Sam relaxes into Dean's body and closes his eyes. But can't help the chuckle that escapes his mouth, because _they are cuddling._

“Shut up, Sam,” Dean grumbles, and Sam can feel the vibration of his voice against his cheek. He smiles, snugging his own hold on Dean.

It's moments like this that makes everything else worth it.

**~Fin~**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :3


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